


No Substitute for Victory

by Quilljoy



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 19:55:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7984195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quilljoy/pseuds/Quilljoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jounouchi has Kaiba playing another sort of game. </p><p>(For the tumblr prompt "Jealous kiss". Requested by kaiba-s-giant-ego.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Substitute for Victory

There’s a faint trace of lipstick on the edge of Jounouchi’s smile. Kaiba’s seen his mouth bruised before, but this is a purple reddish hue, too glossy to be blood, too bright – although is a reasonable mistake to make on first glance. So his anger flares into something else. It’s shaped sharper, now. More annoyance than rage, and more grief than the two combined.

Jounouchi is testing him.

Kaiba sighs, loudly enough as to Jounouchi feel he’s disappointed in him. It only makes Jounouchi’s grin widen. Kaiba doesn’t mind the kiss (or he’d like to believe he doesn’t mind the kiss as much as he lets it show).

“There’s no novelty to this, not at all.”

Jounouchi deflates visibly. He draws closer, and Kaiba catches a whiff of perfume, sweet like candied apples. A perfume he’d never chose for himself (as if Jounouchi would ever acquire something carefully store-bought, as if Kaiba didn’t know him to smell of soap and cheap aftershave; a scent definitely his, though the drugstore brand allowed for no most than perfunctory body care, shared alike by an innumerable parade of men who could only afford the same). His gaze’s remarkably determined, however, glinting with the hint of the same smile that was now concealed. Edging him on. It’s a different sort of game altogether, and Kaiba wishes, somehow, that they’d go back to playing cards, a field he actually masters, where skirting around Jounouchi feels without purpose.

Jounouchi’s wrists are strong in his grasp, and he’s half expecting Jounouchi to pull away, but he doesn’t.

“You should be outright with what you want.”

“Well.” His tongue clicks against the ceiling of his mouth. Jounouchi stops, and uses the time to lick away the jarring memory of the woman he’s been kissing. “What’d be the fun in that?”

Of course. Jounouchi’s never quite grasped the idea that Kaiba doesn’t enjoy playing games. He just likes to win.

It’s unsurprising, then, that when his mouth closes on Jounouchi it doesn’t feel like a victory itself. His lips are warm and eager, and taste like artificial crap. Kaiba wipes away all the remaining trace of gloss before kissing him again, more upset than horny by now, biting into him in a frustrated attempt to erase the invisible mark someone else placed on what’s his. Jounouchi wouldn’t enjoy the idea. Or maybe he would, and that’s why he’s kissing strangers. It gets Kaiba’s blood pumping faster, hotly, at the mere idea, and he’s rougher than usual. Which he doesn’t need to feel bad about because Jounouchi reciprocates, clinging to him and ruining his shirt with the blunt of his nails. He’s got Jounouchi against a wall before he realizes it.

When they finally separate, Jounouchi’s painfully red. Kaiba hasn’t won. He hasn’t won in a long time, not when it concerns to Jounouchi, all bright eyes and wicked lips, but he’s left, at least, satisfied, and maybe not winning isn’t such a curse after all.


End file.
